The Muse of Fates: An Altered Past
by Blysse
Summary: A grieving Hermione shoulders a heavy burden of creating a potion that will defeat Voldemort and save all she holds dear in the wizarding world. What will happen when she realizes that she needs support? - Chapter 3 up!! The plot thickens
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing, after being inspired by all the wonderful stories out there. Please view it with a kind eye, as it may start off rather poorly written. Reviews are always welcomed, whether complimentary or critical - they are what will make my story that much better. A warning: this story will eventually involve a HG/SS romance, which yes, deviates from the normal path. If that repulses you, then let this serve as a warning before you continue reading.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters; they are all the property of Scholastic and JK Rowling.  
  
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*  
The Muse of Fates: An Altered Past  
  
Chapter One  
  
".for we will always honor his memory, and stay true to his vision for Hogwarts." Minerva McGonagall, newly appointed Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, concluded her memorial in front of all assembled students, professors, parents, and friends on a blustery March morning. Albus Dumbledore, longtime pillar of the magical community and the most powerful wizard in a century, had let loose his last breath on the wind the previous evening. The esteemed Headmaster had died peacefully in his sleep, but had left a mass of turmoil behind him. First and foremost was the gargantuan question: What to do about Voldemort?  
  
Despite the façade of peace and safety emanating from Cornelius Fudge and the Ministry of Magic, the witches and wizards assembled on the front lawns of Hogwarts knew otherwise. He-who-must-not-be-named had been steadily rising to power during the last four years. Death Eater attacks, dismissed by the Ministry as committed by rogue maniacs, had been growing in number and violence. News of Dark activity plastered the second page of the Daily Prophet (seeing as the Ministry severely censored the front page). Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix had been spearheading of the relatively small group of people that was working towards the end of the Dark Lord. Now, with Dumbledore gone, all the adults and many of the students assembled wondered what was going to happen next. These were dark times, indeed  
  
Unnoticed by the crowd, Hermione Granger disengaged herself from her two shell-shocked best friends and meandered towards the lake, Head Girl badge glinting in the meager sunlight. Hermione was incredibly changed from the chirrupy, naïve eleven-year-old who had first crossed the barrier at a muggle train station in London, entering a whole new world with innocent eyes wide open. The bushy hair had calmed into a controlled mass of silky brown curls, paralleling the change as Hermione's outspoken nature had subtly changed to something more serious and reserved. The eighteen-year- old was definitely not that same little girl anymore, much as she longed for the carefree days of old, and sometimes Hermione, with an ache in her heart, silently wondered at the world which had molded her prematurely into a world-weary near-adult with large burdens on her shoulders. Despite the clear, graceful physical features that marked the Head Girl as a fully- grown, attractive woman, there was a sad, insecure girl inside desperately in need of a reprieve.  
  
The girl, now almost a woman, now made her way towards a sheltered ring of birch trees bordering the lakeshore. Perching herself on a large flat outcropping in the glade, Hermione finally let her emotions loose as silent sobs wracked her delicate frame. A familiar emptiness began to well up inside of her, as she thought of the man who had been a surrogate grandfather to her, with whom she shared wonderful memories of her seventh year..  
  
~Flashback~  
  
It had all begun one day, a month into Hermione's final year at Hogwarts. On the surface, Hermione was laughing and chatting about Ron's mischance with Tickling Charms in Flitwick's class. While listening to Harry give an animated account of the event, Hermione began to get an odd tingling sensation near the surface of her skin. The feeling grew until Hermione could hear a distant buzzing in her ears, as if a swarm of bees was hovering outside the Great Hall. All of the sudden, Harry stopped talking, and the Hall became ominously still. Everyone in the hall froze, eyes riveted as an unknown force kept them in their seats, watching the Gryffindor table as a ghostly white Lavender Brown began convulsing. Unexpectedly, Lavender went stock-still as her eyes rolled.  
  
In a monotone Lavender began reciting, "Hogwarts is fallen, the light snuffed out, a world awash in black." Suddenly snapping out of her still state, Lavender opened her eyes, desperately gasping, "The phoenix must be reborn by the bringer of the light, or all is lost. The light must be revealed." Lavender slowly recovered from her fit, only to be unsettled by every pair of eyes in the Great Hall staring at her.  
  
"What, have I suddenly become bald? Why is everyone so fascinated by the sight of me all of the sudden? Mind your own business!" Lavender snapped at her fellow students.  
  
Assuming that the event was a staged joke of some sort, most of the students went back to eating and talking, as did the majority of the professors, after exchanging worried glances. After all, this was Hogwarts, unusual things happened every day. However, three pairs of eyes remained looking in Lavender's direction. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape exchanged a dark look as their eyes went back in Lavender's direction, taking in the sight of Hermione Granger, sheen over her eyes, gaze still fixed on Lavender, who was now chatting with a wide-eyed Parvati Patil.  
  
"So this is how it all began." thought Dumbledore and Snape simultaneously. Although no one else but the two professors seemed to have realized it, a landmark had just been reached in Hogwarts history; indeed, a doorway would soon be opened upon which the future of the entire wizarding world was hinged.  
  
After the last class of the day, Hermione was walking to the Gryffindor Tower when she felt a gentle presence behind her. Turning, Hermione found herself face to face with the Headmaster.  
  
"Ah, Miss Granger. I'm glad I ran into you, there's something that I wanted to discuss. I hope you don't mind if you walk with me back to my office." Dumbledore twinkled down at the surprised Head Girl.  
  
"Of course not, Professor. I would be delighted." Hermione, assuming Dumbledore wanted to discuss arrangements and her duties concerning the upcoming Halloween Ball, fell in step with the aging Headmaster. However, when they were both seated in his office, Fawkes dozing in his corner and all the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses looking sternly down upon them, Dumbledore said something completely unexpected.  
  
"Miss Granger, would you care for a game of chess?"  
  
Hermione, staring in shock for the second time that day, managed to stammer out, "O-of c-course, Headmaster, I would love to." In fact, Hermione happened to be an excellent chess player, better than anyone she had ever played with, even Ron. She always let Ron win because she felt that he deserved to feel like he was the best in something, no just standing in someone else's shadow all the time.  
  
The Headmaster conjured up a chessboard on his desk, admonishing Hermione's pieces to listen to what she told them to do. He needn't have worried; the chess set knew when it was in adept hands, and promptly followed all of Hermione's directions. For the first time in her life since her father had taught her the game, Hermione lost. Instead of the bold, aggressive style that she was used to playing against, the Headmaster moved his pieces in seemingly innocent positions, and Hermione was becoming bewildered up until he laid the last piece of his plan in position. By then, it was too late. Most incredibly, the Headmaster had only lost three pieces, two pawns, and a bishop on his last move.  
  
Hermione stared at the chessboard after the game had ended, utterly amazed. "I-I can't believe it. I feel so.diminished."  
  
The Headmaster chuckled. "Don't worry Hermione, you're in good company. The last time I played was against Severus, the most excellent chess player I have ever seen, and even he lost. You held out for a surprisingly long time. With more honing, you will have skills to be proud of." By the way he carefully pronounced the last sentence, Hermione felt that Dumbledore was not only referring to her chess-playing.  
  
"Thank you Professor."  
  
"You're very welcome, Miss Granger. Now, the subject that I wanted to discuss with you was a letter a dear friend of mine has owled me. You see, he is a Muggle professor, and in his correspondence, he makes numerous references to common Muggle terms, most of which I am sadly unfamiliar with. Since your parents are both Muggles, perhaps you could help me in explaining some parts of the letter?"  
  
Surprised once again, Hermione responded, "Yes, of course." She promptly scanned the parts mentioned by the Headmaster and began explaining. Soon, the conversation turned to the differences in wizard and muggle living styles, religious theology, and finally on any topic that came up. Hermione was in her element. Finally, as twilight began to turn into late evening, a knock sounded on the Headmaster's door.  
  
"Well, Hermione, I thank you for a most invigorating experience. Do come back sometime, and we shall finish our conversation. My door is always open to you." The Headmaster smiled kindly at the girl, whose usually pallid expression had turned into one of pink-cheeked, sparkle-eyed pleasure. Hermione gave the Headmaster a dazzling smile and turned towards the door, which burst open suddenly as a hurried Severus Snape walked quickly into a surprised Hermione. Giving Hermione a cursory, glance, Sanpe did the slightest of double takes at the girl's altered appearance before switching back in to 'nasty git' mode.  
  
"Next time, Miss Granger, please be so kind as to watch where your feet are leading you."  
  
Hermione, taken aback, softly uttered a "Sorry, Professor Snape" before making a quick exit.  
  
Chuckling anew, the Headmaster said, "Your demeanor never changes, does it, Severus. Now what was so important that you lost you usual unruffled demeanor and rushed in here, barreling straight into Miss Granger?"  
  
Glaring at the Headmaster's mirth, the irate Professer hissed, "You know exactly what I'm here for, to discuss the rather important incident that happened today at lunch, not to play a pleasant, though rather unimportant game of chess with a student!"  
  
Stifling another bout of chuckling, the Headmaster instead gave a wide smile. "I would agree with you, Severus, had I been playing chess with any other student. Hermione, however, is a different matter, as you know. She needs to be prepared for what she as of yet does not know what she must accomplish."  
  
Grumbling, Severus conceded to the Headmaster's point. "All right, Albus, let's drop that particular matter, and begin planning. I assume that you have already notified Minerva?"  
  
"Yes, she was most upset that she did not immediately connect today's incident with the import that it has. However, I have made up with her lack of insight, and she will be arriving shortly."  
  
"Good. Once she arrives, we need to start preparations without delay."  
  
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*  
  
A/N: Well, what did you think?? Should I continue writing this? I am in need of reviews just push that little button and type your comments, and I will be eternally grateful, enough so to post the next chapter more quickly. 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: The majority of this chapter is still a flashback to the period of Hermione's seventh year before Dumbledore's death. I hope that it is not too confusing, and I will be careful to indicate which parts are flashbacks and which are the present. Enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters; they are all the property of Scholastic and JK Rowling.  
  
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*  
The Muse of Fates: An Altered Past  
  
Chapter Two  
  
(Still flashbacks of the first half of seventh year)  
  
The friendly visit to the Headmaster's office did not become an isolated incident. Hermione had felt increasingly separated from Harry and Ron, although the boys, being male, did not seem to realize that anything was amiss. It was not through any fault of their own, Hermione admitted to herself. While she felt the weight of the times burdening her, Ron on the other had was just as carefree and Quidditch-obsessed as ever, and Harry, attempting to forget the same weight that Hermione sagged under, increasingly attempted to "be one of the boys," dismissing the intermittent burnings of his scar and horrific nightmares in the blink of an eye.  
  
Hermione, however, was not so lucky as Harry. Whereas he had Quidditch and a large group of rowdy boys to distract him, she had scheduled for herself and overfull course load, feeling the need to be as prepared and capable as she could, for what purpose she had yet to discover. Therefore, her normal day consisted of hours in the library with breaks in between for courses, meals, Head Girl rounds, and finally, a trip to her dormitory for some much- needed sleep. Alone for much of the day, Hermione had a lot of time, really too much time, to think, about the events whirling around her in the world outside of Hogwarts, and to oftentimes give in to despair at her isolation and feeling of unfulfillment.  
  
Thus did Hermione often find her path leading her directly to that ridiculous stone gargoyle on the second floor. Whenever she felt as if the loneliness was welling up and dropping leaden stones inside her soul, she would mutter whatever sweet the password was that week, and slip into her haven. Always, she would come out with a barely noticeable renewed spark in her demeanor, a flash in her eye. The conversations Hermione had with the wise Headmaster always reinvigorated the workings of her keen mind, and truly, she learned just as much about magic theory and human nature in the sessions with Dumbledore as she learned about practical magic in her regular course load.  
  
Hermione could still remember, verbatim, the last conversation she had had with her mentor, the last time she had looked upon his twinkling, though age-worn countenance. Even at the end of their last exchange, Hermione had not known the tragedy of what was to happen that very night. The Headmaster had given her the most affecting and thought-provoking speech ever that evening.  
  
"I believe in you, Hermione. And remember: when darkness seems to keep dropping its heavy stones inside of you, never despair. I know that there is a fierce light inside of your soul, that is waiting to blind the world with its brilliance and pureness, and one day, the fates willing, you yourself will recognize it for what it is."  
  
The Head Girl had been startled, never having heard Dumbledore give such a speech before. She had looked at the expression on the beloved Headmaster's face, and it seemed to be radiating power and hope. Slowly, a responding hope was kindled in her own heart. For the first time in a long while, Hermione Granger felt that the weighted absence inside of her could be, would be fulfilled. With hope came determination and renewed energy, and most of all, an overwhelming gratitude towards that man who had become a grandfather figure to her. Hermione did not know what to say, but the omniscient Professor seemed to understand.  
  
"Now, Miss Granger, I believe you have two insatiable men waiting for you to arrive in the Gryffindor common room. I shall bid you a good night. After all, an old man needs his beauty sleep." The Headmaster twinkled down at Hermione. "Run along now, I'm sure that you want some to think."  
  
Hermione had finally recovered from her speechlessness. "Thank you, Professor, for everything. I know that this moment, and especially you, will hold a special place in my heart. Good night, and thank you again."  
  
Dumbledore's countenance softened, and Hermione saw that she had deeply touched him. "Hermione, I am sure that you read St. Exupery's wonderful children's book The Little Prince when you were younger. I think there is one lesson in that delightful histoire that especially applies in these dubious and oftentimes dark times: Above all, always follow your heart, Hermione, for that which is invisible is often the most essential. Goodnight, Hermione, until we meet again."  
  
With that, the door to the Headmaster's office shut firmly in Hermione's face, leaving her looking once again at that comical stone gargoyle set in the doorway.  
  
~End Flashback~  
  
Hermione shivered in her thin robes, remembering that in her absentmindedness, she had left her cloak hanging on her coat rack in her bedroom. Bleakly reverting her gaze from her clothing to the layer of mist that lay over the lake in late winter, she heaved a sigh, futilely swiping her cheek with the back of her hand, attempting to clear her face of long- dried tracks of salt. Hermione thought mirthlessly that if she gathered all the salt that had leaked from her eyes within the past months, it would be enough to form a good-sized chunk of halite. Glancing over at the scene in front of the school, Hermione saw that the last straggle of students were heading inside the large oaken doors, most probably headed to the Great Hall and dinner. Most of the guests had apparently already left.  
  
Sighing, Hermione shifted and prepared to head inside also, remembering that the Head Girl would surely be missed if she did not attend lunch. Just at that moment, Hermione heard the sound of swishing robes piercing the early spring air. Snapping her head around, the girl was faced with the rather unwelcome sight of Professor Snape, standing rigid in and stern in all of his dark, brooding glory.  
  
"Miss Granger, I believe that the service is over, as it appears that all of your classmates have gathered back inside the castle. I should not have to remind you that many would be most.concerned.if Hogwarts' Head Girl was not at the noontime meal?"  
  
Snape sneered, clearly insinuating that he himself would not take it amiss if the Great Hall was not graced with her presence at dinner.  
  
Indignant, Hermione's frayed nerves made her give the professor a rather sharper retort than she had intended.  
  
"Professor Snape, I was well aware that dinner was about to commence. In fact, I was just about to head inside before you deterred me. If you would please excuse me, sir, I believe that I have an obligation to fulfill."  
  
With flashing eyes, Hermione, every inch the aloof Hogwarts' Head Girl, purposely gave an impressive Snape-like swish of her robes as she brushed rudely into the shoulder of the professor in concern, sweeping away in a perfect imitation of his usual walking tactics.  
  
If Hermione had seen Snape's face has she sped towards the castle, she would have been very surprised indeed. Instead of his usual glowering countenance, Snape's eyes crackled with amusement as he lifted his lofty eyebrows and quirked the corner of his mouth into a wry half-smile. Stiffening, Snape wiped the expression off his face as he too swept across the grounds to eat a rather more somber meal than usual.  
  
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*  
  
A/N: Thanks to the people who reviewed - sorry it took so long to get this second chapter up, and see, I haven't abandoned this story. Sorry if this chapter is a bit strange, I wrote it at two in the morning, which always makes my writing rather peculiar. So please review, I'm sure there are inaccuracies galore that need fixing. Oh, and sorry about the short chapter, the next one will have more action in it, I promise. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters; they are all the property of Scholastic and JK Rowling.  
  
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*  
The Muse of Fates: An Altered Past  
  
Chapter Three  
  
"Come on, Hermione, you can't stay locked up in your room reading forever. You have to come with is to Hogsmead, this is the first Hogsmead weekend they've had in ages. They have some new broom accessories in Quality Quidditch Supplies, and we can go to Zonko's and get some of Fred and George's new stuff! C'mon!"  
  
Ron Weasley attempted to drag his friend out of her desk chair, as an amused Harry looked on.  
  
"Hermione, I'm sure the Goddess of Books and Homework that you worship won't take it amiss if you come and have a butterbeer with your friends. And you can even read in the bookstore afterwards, if you're not interested in the racing brooms. Come with us, it's just for a few hours, and we can have some fun together."  
  
Harry's method of persuasion seemed to work much better than Ron's.  
  
"Alright you two, I'll come. Really, Ron, you didn't need to pull my arm half out of the socket to go with you to Hogsmead. I just needed a little time to finish reading this page."  
  
"Good, then let's go!"  
  
In Hogsmead, Hermione glanced around as the trio walked to Madame Rosmerta's. They had not been allowed to come here during the 3 weeks after Dumbledore's death. Hogwarts, ever sheltered from outside events, had been feeling less and less secure in the past weeks. Death Eater attacks had become common and more daring, and no one in the wizarding community felt safe any longer. The signs of changes in Hogsmead were slight, yet noticeable. There were less people on the streets, and those who ventured out did not socialize. Hogsmead always had an Auror on patrol. Today, a young Auror, probably just out of training, traversed the town, checking for warning signs of an attack. In the bar, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and some other Hogwarts' students were practically the only patrons. They saw the changes in the community, but it remained an unspoken issue; instead, the friends talked and laughed about schoolwork, professors, Ron's chaotic family, anything but the current events at hand.  
  
When they exited Madame Rosmerta's, Harry and Ron headed towards the Quidditch shop while Hermione, with a wave, veered down the main street in search of Hogsmead's antique bookshop. Finally reaching the crooked little store wedged between an apothecary and the Hogsmead branch of Madam Malkin's, Hermione sighed with pleasure as she entered the door and breathed in the unique scent of aged paper and binding.  
  
"Why hello, Hermione. You haven't been around for a while. Understandable, seeing how events stand as they are, now. I was truly saddened to hear the new about Albus. He was a great friend of mine, and always a great help in finding some of the rarer tomes."  
  
Samwell Shintrack, owner of Shintrack's Antique Book Shoppe, greeted Hermione warmly. Although Hermione had never made a purchase in his store (most items he sold, after all, was always a bit too much for her budget), she visited often and the two found each other good company in the discussion of the contents of the ancient tomes.  
  
"Hello, Sam - it's so nice to see you again. Have you received anything interesting in the past few weeks?"  
  
"Why, as a matter of fact I have. A certain Mr. Humpledine passed away not two weeks ago. He was a great friend and patron of mine, and he actually left me some very interesting scrolls containing the treatises of medieval witches and wizards in his will. Would you like to take a look? They're in the back room. Follow me."  
  
Sam led a curious Hermione to a desk in his workroom, which was stacked with a collection of approximately ten to twenty yellowed rolls of parchment. He beamed at her as he saw the familiar spark light in her eye at the sight.  
  
"You will know, of course that many of the magical medieval philosophers had some interesting ideas about good and evil, and they theorized, as it was a time where religion was a pervading force in life, about possible powerful forces in nature that could alter destiny. I'm not all too familiar on the topic, but I'm sure the scrolls will be much more informative. You have all afternoon to have a look."  
  
Sam chuckled as Hermione touched the scrolls in reverence. He knew that he did not need to mention that she should be careful with the valuable artifacts. As Hermione picked up a scroll, carefully unrolled it, and became engrossed, she glanced up at the kindly old wizard beside her.  
  
"Thank you very much Sam. I'm sure these will be fascinating."  
  
Sam beamed, "Enjoy yourself." as he slipped back into the main store.  
  
For an indeterminable amount of time, Hermione leisurely perused the scrolls, until, as she unrolled one of the last, the first sentences immediately caught the Head Girl's quick eye:  
  
"Although it is stated among wizards that we determine our own destiny, there perhaps is evidence to the contrary. Why, if we do indeed choose our own future, do their exist numerous genuine Oracles who divine future events, and why is it possible to use a time-turner and perhaps alter a strand of time? I theorize that there are greater powers that exist in the magical, spiritual sphere that I shall refer to as 'the Fates.' And, these Fates exist to control the balance between Light and Dark, so that even though there shall always be voices of dissent, Dark forces will never be able to wholly overrun the universe."  
  
"Incredible!" Hermione thought, "it's such an obscure theory, but there are certain things in this thesis that have a ring of truth." Reading further down, the author began to write about people in history who had perhaps used by these Fates to maintain the balance:  
  
"These individuals, usually appearing in times of greatest Darkness, are usually inherently powerful magic wielders, yet they apparently show no exceptionally 'special' traits until a certain point in time, when their Fate has finally matured. When that happens, they seem to overcome Darkness with a reciprocal Light inside of themselves. This Light seems to have outstanding potency. Individuals possessing this Light, born usually every two or three generations, use this Light in numerous unique ways to overcome Darkness. Thus, the Fates rest the well being of the worlds upon this individual, who has only been known to fail three times in the last thousand years of history."  
  
At this point, Hermione realized that she was having a hard time seeing the faded words on the parchment. Glancing out the small window, she realized that it was late afternoon already, and that she had to catch the carriages back to the castle.  
  
Walking back into the main room, Hermione saw Sam sitting behind the counter.  
  
"Those treatises were wonderful, Sam. Thank you for showing them to me."  
  
Sam smiled, "I thought you would like them."  
  
"I loved them!"  
  
Hermione realized she was still clutching the scroll she had been reading.  
  
"Oh, I almost walked out with this one. Here, take it." She said, handing it back to Sam.  
  
"No, Hermione, you keep it. It's a gift."  
  
"I can't possibly take it! It must be worth two hundred galleons!"  
  
"Well, the scrolls were a gift to me from an old friend, so I choose to give this one to you, as my friend. Think of it as an early graduation gift."  
  
"Thank you, Sam. You're brilliant!" Hermione exclaimed, instinctively giving the wizened wizard a kiss on the cheek before placing the scroll in her robes and dashing out of the Shintrack's just in time to see the first carriages lining up. The Head Girl was abruptly halted by the sight in front of Rosmerta's. A group of no less than five Death Eaters had apparated outside the pub's door. Then, under Hermione's horrified gaze, an apparently unaware Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey emerged from the door, right in the face of the Death Eaters. Hermione stood frozen to the spot as she saw the Death Eaters raise their wands just as Professor McGonagall glanced up, too late to draw her wand.  
  
"No!" Hermione gasped, helpless, and too far away to do anything. Still, the sight galvanized her legs into action as she sprinted down the pathway, seeing a frightened and upset crowd gather around the fringes. Suddenly, as Hermione was still thirty feet away, a swift black shadow dashed from the corner of the building to halt in front of the Professors, to face the Death Eaters, shouting curses calmly while leveling his wand at the would- be attackers and stunning one. The Head Girl stopped twenty feet away as she recognized the black shadow as Professor Snape. The Death Eaters seemed to have noticed the same fact.  
  
"Snape! What the blazes do you think you're doing? The Master shall hear of this treachery, you can have no doubt. And you know the Dark Lord hates traitors above all else. Now, why don't you step aside so that we may get down to business, and perhaps you will not be punished too severely."  
  
Snape responded aloofly, with characteristic elegance and fluidity. "Well now, Avery, it doesn't seem as if you're in a position to give orders and I really don't have time to chat. Stupefy!"  
  
Avery was stunned just as Hogsmeade's young Auror sprinted to the scene from across town. Looking at the newly-arrived Auror along with the venomous crowd arriving behind Hermione, the lead Death Eater barked out orders.  
  
"Grab the two fallen and apparate out, now!" The Death Eaters disapparated, leaving their targeted victims unharmed.  
  
"Miss Granger!" Hermione started at the sound of Professor Snape's familiar bark. She had been unaware that he had noticed her presence. "Round up all students and have them in the carriages in ten minutes' time. Hurry!"  
  
After seeing the last students into the carriages, Hermione climbed into the last one with Ron, Harry, and Snape. During the ride back to Hogwarts, the trio sat silently staring at each other in shock as their Professor ignored them.  
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*  
  
A/N: Sorry it took such an incredibly long time to post this chapter - unfortunately, real life decided to barge in with a vengeance, and I haven't had time to write. Chapter 4 is already in the works, and hopefully it will be up soon, although no guarantees. As always, reviews are highly encouraged, as this story needs feedback to become any better. Thanks for reading! 


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